CHAPTER 5
Whenever I step off the stage, it feels like I’m buzzing from the inside out. I know it’s leftover adrenaline, but it’s a feeling that never gets old. It’s the entire reason that I still perform on stage, even though I don’t really need to.
Hell, I don’t even need to be working at Alora’s studio considering I have my degree now. I could try and get a job utilizing it, but I don’t think that would make me happier. I love what I do, especially when I can watch the confidence of another women grow as they dance and learn the subtle art of seduction using burlesque.
Normally, I don’t stay after a show, but Club Sin pays me a little extra to go out into the lounge and mingle. It’s kind of fun and I know I’m safe at Club Sin.
Have I been propositioned? Of course, but I’ve never felt obligated to say yes or like I’m in danger when I turn someone down. There has even been a time or two when I’ve said yes and had a very pleasurable experience.
It’s one of the reasons why I always take the gig when I’m asked to dance here. Also, the atmosphere and the décor are beautiful. The view from The Centennial building is beautiful and the soft neon in the lounge mixed with opulent elegance just does something for me.
And it doesn’t hurt being surrounded by a bunch of attractive people putting their best foot forward who look at me like I’m a goddess.
It’s certainly not something I thought would ever be a part of my life.
I always felt dowdy when I was growing up. I know, partially, that was because I was never allowed to explore my own style or dress how I wanted. The women in my church were expected to dress modestly and to never attract attention to our bodies. It was stifling and difficult to navigate, especially when I was older and in school.
I head to the bar area after pulling a pair of black slacks on which leaves the sparkly black bustier that I’m wearing exposed. I fit right in with everyone else except I’m a little shinier than the other women. It’s not a terrible thing necessarily.
I feel eyes on me the moment I step into the lounge area knowing my props will be safe until someone can help me carry them out later. I always love it when they put the pearl curtain up for me to perform with. It’s one of the many stage decorations they have, but it’s a favorite of mine.
There’s a charged energy in the room, one that I haven’t felt in Club Sin before. When I glance around, I don’t notice anything different than what I’ve seen before. Sure, some people are looking at me, but that’s nothing new.
I shake off the feeling as I lean against the bar and smile at the bartender who comes my way immediately with my drink. I don’t perform here often, but they take damn good care of me when I do.
“Your performance was beautiful. You light up the stage,” the smooth male voice coming from beside me has me glancing over and I freeze.
Holy shit.
I’m pretty sure everyone in the world knows the man standing next to me. I blink a few times while trying to reconcile the fact that Langston Phillips, rock star and brooding bad boy extraordinaire is not only standing next to me in Club Sin but is talking to me.
No fucking way.
As surprise starts to ebb away, because of course a rock star like Langston would be in an upscale sex club, a wave of sadness washes over me. The story of how his bandmate and best friend passed away was huge news. There was a lot of speculation around his death, especially considering how much the pair partied before it happened.
Some people thought Langston would slow down in response. From what the gossip channels have reported, that hasn’t happened.
“Th-thank you,” I stutter out awkwardly.
The smile he flashes at me is one that earns him panties being thrown onto the stage. But there’s something a little false about it—like he uses it to hide who he really is and what he truly feels.
It must be lonely at the top.
Does anyone really care about this man? He’s lost so much recently, including his record contract because he went off the rails a little bit. I suppose that’s a business thing, but what about the person behind the music?
“You’re welcome,” he drawls.
His voice is sexy and there’s a certain amount of charisma oozing from him, but for some reason my mind strays to the three bikers in the front row of the birthday party I danced at a few weeks ago. It doesn’t make any sense.
I don’t even know the names of those men and I sure as hell didn’t talk to them. Still, I wonder what their voices sound like.
I shake off the memories of the way their eyes bored into me. I probably won’t ever see them again anyway.
I lean toward Langston slightly as I lower my voice, “I’m trying very hard not to embarrass myself by becoming a fan girl right now. I love your music,” I gush.
The smile he gives me this time is genuine and it makes his eyes warm and comforting. It also makes me wonder if he has anyone in his corner caring for him. I hope so. He deserves it and he needs it.
“That’s sweet, darlin’.” His eyes travel down over me, snagging on my cleavage for a moment, but it doesn’t make me feel slimy. I’m okay with the way he’s appreciating me with his eyes.
“I wish I had a stage show that I could invite you on. I don’t know how I’d incorporate what you do into rock, but I could probably find a way.”
I laugh, the idea of going out on tour and performing burlesque amusing as fuck. If my parents ever found out, they would freak the hell out. Rock was not music we were allowed to listen to growing up; it was the devil’s music.
Actually, most music was sent straight from the devil other than hymns and gospel.
I shake off the thoughts of my parents and give Langston a huge smile. “It would probably be fun to incorporate some pyrotechnics,” I tease him.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re cute,” his words kind of hang there like he’s waiting for me to fill in a blank.
It takes me a moment to understand, but I stick my hand out when I do. “I’m Navy,” I tell him as he shakes my hand. He doesn’t linger or hold on for too long. As he brings his drink to his lips, I add, “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Phillips.”
His eyes widen and he chokes on his drink a little bit. “No, no, no, Navy. I’m definitely not mister anything,” there’s amusement in his voice. I shrug one shoulder and feel my cheeks heat a little bit. “Please call me Langston.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
There’s a moment of silence between us and I take the opportunity to take a sip of my drink. Before either of us can say anything else, the air around me shifts and I feel a presence behind me.
“You want to move it along rock star,” a gruff voice grits out from behind me and my eyes widen slightly.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I imagined the bikers would sound like.
Langston holds his hands up, but there’s no fear in his voice, “I was just having a conversation with the lady and telling her how much I enjoyed her performance.”
“I’m sure you did,” a different voice says and now I’m more than a little curious about who is behind me. I wasn’t expecting two distinct voices at all.
Maybe I should have because the presence behind me feels like a wall. It’s not creeping me out though and I turn slowly.
My jaw practically drops to the floor when I see the three bikers that I was just thinking about standing there. They’re wearing jeans, t-shirts, and their leather vest things which make them stand out in the room. Granted, that’s not the only thing that makes them stand out.
There’s an air of danger coming from them and they’re definitely some of the biggest men in the room. I suck in a sharp breath of surprise and the man in the middle, the one who was sitting in the middle of the front row while I danced, looks down at me. His crystal blue eyes are swirling with emotion, but one that is easy to read is hunger as he looks at me.
Warmth pools in my belly and I feel my face get hot. Thankfully, I’m wearing some heavy duty make up tonight since I was on stage or else I’m sure that I would be bright red. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that pierces right through to the deepest part of me. It makes me want to squirm.
“Do you know these guys, Navy?” My head whips toward Langston. I don’t know what he sees in my eyes, but his lips spread into a wide smile, and he gives me a nod. “The twinkle in your eyes tells a story for sure. If they ever don’t treat you right, you just let me know.”
Langston gives the guys at my back one of those macho chin lift things as he stands up and finishes off his drink. He saunters off before I realize that I have no way to contact him even if I wanted to. I guess that’s for the best, he’s not the man for me.
I turn toward the three bikers slowly, trying to calm my racing heart and clear the fog of desire trying to pull me under. I can still feel the adoration of the audience from when I was on stage. It always makes me feel a little dizzy and drunk.
The silence stretches between us, and I take the moment to take the three men in. There’s something so similar about them—the way they’re looking at me with desire written on their faces, their ‘don’t fuck with me vibe’ coming from them, and the violent glint in their eyes. Still, I don’t feel like I’m in danger. Not even a little bit.
All three have dark hair, but they style it differently. The man in the middle has longer hair that kisses his shoulders. The one with the sparkle of mischief in his hazel eyes and a big grin on his face that speaks of trouble has short hair that’s only a little shorter on the sides. The third one, with bulging muscles and brown eyes that make me want to stare into them until I’m lost or found, has the sides of his head shaved and his hair longer on top.
“Hello, Siren,” the man in the middle’s voice is lower than the other two and it’s a trifecta of sexy as hell voices.
I take a big gulp of my drink before putting it down and narrowing my eyes. Weren’t these guys the same ones being pawed by barely dressed women not that long ago? What on earth are they doing here?
“What are you doing here?”
The mischievous one smirks, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that has me starting to pant slightly. “We’re here for you.”
That should send fear coursing through me, but it doesn’t.
The muscular one smirks which is far too sexy for my wellbeing. “We didn’t get the chance to meet you after you danced at the clubhouse for Spark’s birthday.”
My eyebrows shoot up in curiosity, “Spark?”
“I’m Spark,” the one in the middle grunts. He points to the mischievous one, “Rites. Crucify,” he nods toward the muscular one. He must see the confusion on my face because he explains, “They’re our road names.”
I bite my lip as I nod slowly, everything in my body heightened the longer I’m around these men. I should not want to have anything to do with them, but there’s something about them drawing me closer. I want to know them.
It makes no damn sense, but I’ve learned to listen to myself and my instincts over the years, especially after I was told to suppress who I am and what I feel for so long.
“It’s nice to officially meet you. I’m Navy,” I murmur softly, unsure if they know my name.
The image of the three men in front of me with women on their laps flashes in my mind and I find myself taking a step back. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life, not when there’s something I’ve never felt before begging me to get closer to these men.
And all three of them? That’s a new feeling and one I’m not sure that I like.
Before I can take another step, Spark’s hand shoots out and cups the back of my neck. The contact has me freezing in place.
“Don’t run off, Siren,” there’s a warning and a demand in his voice. It’s clear he’s the kind of man who is used to being listened to and getting what he wants. “We need to talk.”
I swallow hard and nod slowly, “Okay.”
I glance over at the bartender whose eyes are bouncing back and forth between me and the men in front of me, concern etched on his face. When he looks at me, I give him a smile because I’m not afraid and I don’t think I’m in any danger. If they wanted to, they could have carted me out of here already.
They haven’t. And I have to admit that I’m curious about what they want.
There’s only one way to find out.